


and they all were fleeting

by trixstar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Crushes, F/M, JUST, M/M, No Dialogue, Relationship Study, crushes i think they had on each other at one point, ish, not much concrete shipping honestly?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25401943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixstar/pseuds/trixstar
Summary: The Faerghus Four and the crushes they have on each other as time goes on.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 22
Kudos: 120





	and they all were fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> crushes i think happened at one point that's literally it. hope y'all enjoy!

Ingrid’s first crush is laughable.

It’s not Glenn like everyone thinks. Looking back at it now, even _she_ is surprised that it isn't. Much more that she'd recognized the crush for what it was. She'd been so young, _naive_ , head filled with dreams stories had instilled in her. She finds herself in awe of how her heart had found the time to skip a beat for someone despite the circumstances. 

It just happened to choose the wrong person.

Because she didn't fall for the dashing, knight-to-be, heir of the noble House Fraldarius. No, Ingrid hadn't fallen for the boy she'd been _engaged to since birth_. Ingrid was a fool like that.

Instead, she'd fallen for his brother.

Felix is small and baby-faced when Ingrid first meets him. Smile bright and brown eyes twinkling, filling Ingrid’s insides with… something foreign ( _butterflies_ , she would learn later) as they held each other’s gazes. 

It was so unfair, she had heard the maids at Galatea whisper, how beautiful such a young boy could be and Ingrid had found herself agreeing. Not because it was unfair, but because Felix _is_ beautiful and the fact made Ingrid’s heart race and her cheeks burn.

He is shorter than her, only a little, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for volume. All through-out their first meeting, he is loud, brash, _attention-seeking_ , she'd even heard his own father describe him. 

But he is _beautiful_.

The crushing disappointment she feels when she first finds out about the engagement could have been alleviated if it had been Felix instead of Glenn, she'd thought once, whilst crying into her pillow. Before she eventually comes to her senses and realizes it would have been better if it had been _no one at all_. Because this damns her dreams even more than the world already has.

Wife or knight. Ingrid has been taught that she cannot be both.

But Ingrid is young and Ingrid is hopeful, so she plays along. For now. Lets her future self be the one that worries about paving her path. The _coward's_ way out. Even then that's how she'd recognized it.

She'd taken it anyway.

Because Ingrid is young and all she needs to concern herself with is her duty. Her purpose to her family, her house, her land. What she was born for, some would say.

So her crush doesn't last.

Her crush doesn't last even when Felix makes her feel wanted, recognized her for her skill rather than her title, made her heart beat faster than it ever had before. Despite all these things, Ingrid stomps on her feelings until they are no more.

Until Ingrid no longer finds Felix beautiful.

She falls for Glenn eventually. And it hurts because he _solidifies_ her dreams, makes Ingrid crave so much more for what she cannot have. Glenn is a perfect caricature of the knight she can never be. The definition of chivalry, bravery, _everything_.

Then he _dies_.

She cries the most at the funeral. More than Sylvain, than Dimitri, even more than Felix. She knows no one's surprised, but she is. Because Ingrid isn't a crier. Much less a public one, but she can't help it.

Because damn the universe. 

Damn the universe for giving her a crest. Damn it for having her fall for Felix only to have her beat the feelings down and transfer them onto the person they were meant for in the beginning. Damn it for killing said person anyway.

To add insult to injury, the beauty Ingrid had been so enraptured by when she was younger is tainted in the most horrible way. 

She can longer no look at Felix without feeling like someone has stabbed her. Like something has died within her. Like being _destroyed_. 

Karma is the worst thing.

Ingrid’s first crush is laughable because it had definitely crushed her.

* * *

Sylvain’s crush on his majesty does not last long.

This isn't unusual. Most of Sylvain’s crushes never last long. Because that’s all they are. _Crushes_. By definition, they aren't meant to last. They are mere infatuations, shallow, _ill-fated_.

They didn't mean anything. It's why he indulged in them so often. After all, a little enjoyment is the least he can get from all the leeches coming after him for his crest. 

It's a twisted line of thinking, he knows. But that's what he's known for, isn't it? Being _twisted_. A skirt chaser that left more chaos than precious memories in his wake. He's just playing his part by doing this. If a couple of hearts are broken here and there then so be it. They'd have ruined him more if Sylvain had given them the chance.

Luckily, he isn't like some of the poor saps he dates. He doesn't confuse lust or the thrill of it all for anything else. For something more, something _meaningful_.

No, Sylvain never falls in love.

But his feelings for Dimitri had raised some questions.

They'd bloomed inside him out of the blue, silent (and deadly.)

They are in the greenhouse, tending to the plants together because Dedue is at a seminar and Sylvain has nothing better to do than be a good friend. Despite what Felix and Ingrid may say, he could do that. Be a good friend. 

But, evidently, something in him hadn't been satisfied with that. With _friends_.

Because when Dimitri grins at him across the flowers with a smile as bright as the sun, suddenly, the only thing Sylvain can hear is his heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears and how his breath catches at the sight.

_Oh_ , he thinks as he recovers before giving Dimitri his own winning smile. _Oh_ , he thinks as he crouches behind the potted plant he'd been tending to. _Oh_ , he realizes as he stares at his reflection in a nearby watering can.

So it's come to this now, has it?

He's not surprised. Not really. He'd had a crush on all of his childhood friends at one point. Ingrid, in their earlier years. Felix, between that and beginning life at the monastery. But they'd come to pass. Sylvain would rather die than jeopardize what little meaningful relationships he had.

Later, when he thinks about it more critically, he's in awe of how Dimitri is the last one he falls for. Because... well, he's _Dimitri_. Kind to a fault, heart as big as the ocean, dashing as a hundred princes combined, the list goes on and on. He's nearly perfect.

Nearly.

There is one side of him that Sylvain loathes to see. The one born after Duscur.

He doesn't like to think about that side of Dimitri, so he doesn't.

So, as per usual, he lets the crush play out. Lets him get it out of system. It's the only way he finds peace. He lets his cheeks warm at the sight of Dimitri's smile. Lets his heart beat fast when they share a rare hug. Lets himself pause to collect himself after their fingers touch. It's normal. It's routine.

Until it isn't.

Because Sylvain's never thrown himself in front of a sword for any of his crushes before. He's never watched any of them sleep in the infirmary after a particularly arduous training session. Never had the urge to kiss someone so strongly.

_Fuck_ , Sylvain thinks as he buries his face in his hands, just a chair away from Dimitri's sleeping form. _Fuck_ , he thinks as he heaves a heavy sigh, exhausted and bitter all at once. _Fuck_ , he thinks as he keeps watching Dimitri sleep.

He's messed up badly it seems. He's gone ahead and fallen in _love_.

Fortunately, he doesn't have time to dwell on it. Flayn is kidnapped, the monastery becomes a mess, and feelings are the least of his worries. He's somehow grateful for this, although he knows it is sick, _twisted_. 

But he is Sylvain Jose Gautier, the definition of twisted. Would anyone really be surprised?

In an even more fortunate turn of events, something happens which makes it significantly easier to tamp down his feelings until they fade.

The side of Dimitri he doesn't like to think about. It rears its ugly head as they fight the Flam- _Edelgard_ and Sylvain is floored.

Felix's words echo in his ears as he watches Dimitri slaughter their foes. _Boar_ , Felix had always called their friend, but he's not calling him anything now. Just silently watching Dimitri crush two men's skulls like the rest of them. In shock, in disgust, Sylvain doesn't know. Sylvain doesn't _want_ to know.

It's morbid. Terrifying. Sylvain feels like he's watching a _monster_ feast _._ It's then when his feelings die.

Because they wouldn't be able to survive. It's so obvious. A monster and his twisted paramour? It's a recipe for disaster. He can't even stand to think of this side of Dimitri. How is he supposed to brave it out? To accept it? And who knows how badly he could hurt Dimitri? Sylvain could be cruel. He couldn't do that to Dimitri. He didn't want to.

You couldn't put two broken things together and expect something to come out fixed. It didn't work like that.

It is the logic he settles on because he refuses to think about it any further.

He turns away from Dimitri in his crazed state. Turns away from his feelings.

Sylvain's crush on his majesty does not last long. It is something he makes sure of.

* * *

Dimitri does not count her as a crush.

Ingrid has always been more than that. She is his friend, one of his closest, a sister practically. He wasn't Sylvain. She didn't deserve to be labeled as a passing fancy. (No one did, really.)

Even if she had been at one point.

It was all Sylvain's fault, he'd argue. Because Dimitri doesn't think about these things. How could he? He is set to be king. He cannot waste time thinking about things like casual trysts or- goddess forbid- _love_. It's unthinkable. _Improper_.

No distractions for the crown prince of Faerghus, none at all.

But Sylvain had pushed. Kept pushing so hard that Dimitri had finally let his mind wander.

If he were to entertain the idea, who would he even fall for?

Ingrid had come to mind almost immediately and he'd ducked his head and felt his face burn soon after, flustered.

It seemed natural to think about his closest female companion, he reasons out. Ingrid had only come to mind first because she was the obvious choice. Nothing more. Heck, he'd even go as far as to say he'd probably have thought of Mercedes or Annette under different circumstances.

The problem with this though is that after the thought of Ingrid and _more_ had entered his mind, Dimitri cannot for the life of him get it to exit.

How would it feel like to... to kiss Ingrid? To go on dates with her? To hold her comfortingly in a way only lovers could? How would that all feel?

Dimitri's mind is plagued with hundreds of questions he can't think of answers to. All he knows is that there is warmth in his chest when he thinks about Ingrid now and this is _bad_.

He's not proud of how he proceeds to treat her in the days following the thoughts he'd so stupidly entertained.

He can't meet Ingrid's eyes anymore. Shied away from any situation that left the two of them alone. Stumbled over his words around her. It's _horrible_. Dimitri's been reduced to a blushing schoolboy and it's absolutely _horrible_.

He knows his friends have noticed. How could they not? Dimitri's never blundered around helplessly like this before. Felix's glares turn more questioning than angry. Sylvain becomes a hell of a lot more playful, _knowing_. Mercedes and Annette giggle at him. Ashe even recommends him a book about _courting._

Even Dedue's usual silence seems charged.

With how obvious he's being, he's not surprised when Ingrid eventually calls him out.

She's worried, understandably. She tells him she's never seen him like this, that it puzzles her greatly and Dimitri shakes his head, offers her nothing but half-truths and empty reassurances. He's not going to _tell_ her. He wouldn't risk their friendship like that.

So he holds his tongue and lets time work its magic.

The feelings fade eventually. It hadn't taken much. He'd just thought of other girls (though he'll never admit it) and realized that maybe he'd been enamored by the _idea_ of love, _not_ Ingrid herself.

The epiphany fills him with an enormous amount of relief.

Experimentation, curiosity, that's all it had been. He was right. Thinking of Ingrid had only been convenient, _easy_. It shouldn't count.

So...

Dimitri does not count her as a crush.

~~(But that doesn't mean she hadn't been at one point.)~~

* * *

After the war, Felix has barely anything to do.

Life is annoyingly dull. Bland. Boring. His days blur together so much that he's certain that if it weren't for his duties, he'd have lost all sense of time.

Wake up, have breakfast, attend to paperwork, scout Fraldarius territory, converse with the locals, have lunch, _more_ paperwork, dinner, sleep, repeat.

Felix is sick of it.

He swears this is the only reason he looks forward to Sylvain's visits.

He's always so loud. Insisting on a grandiose entrance every time he sets foot on Fraldarius property. He'd come on the back of a horse with a rainbow-colored mane once. Felix had made him wait to be let in his estate for an hour. Another time, he'd brought a bouquet of roses to distribute amongst all of Felix's female servants. Utterly irritating, yes, but at least Felix had had much use for his sword that day.

They talk a lot. _Just to talk,_ is what Sylvain had told him after all, the first time Felix inquired about his intentions. About politics, current affairs, _gossip_ (definitely more Sylvain than him,) whatever came to mind. Sometimes their conversations last hours, continuing well into the night. Other times, a mere few minutes. Just a quick pop-in from the older man when his destination was elsewhere and matters were urgent.

_Fool_ , Felix would call him. Because he should know better than to squeeze in a little visit when Sylvain's presence could be needed somewhere else.

But he'd always insist and, eventually, Felix stops nagging.

After all, it's a pleasant break from the normalcy he has learned to loathe.

He just didn't expect it to have its own repercussions.

A handful of brave servants have told him of how he's more agreeable when the Margrave Gautier is around. Grinned more, laughed more. Felix has heard them whisper too of how he is more expressive, more vulnerable around Sylvain.

To say it bothers him is an understatement.

His servants shouldn't even be gossiping about him in the first place. Much less telling him head on about their... ludicrous observations. 

As much as they are true.

That's what irks him the most.

Because Felix _is_ happier around Sylvain. More calm, less harsh, less critical. Felix actually relaxes around him, jokes around around with him. He is significantly more at ease with the man than he is with anyone else.

He's not sure how to react to the realization at first, but when his brain finally catches up with him, Felix is puzzled.

He's never acted this way around Sylvain before, around anyone really. Felix doesn't know what the attitude change could mean and it bothers him that he doesn't. He didn't like not knowing things.

Dimitri notices. Because of course he has to torment Felix so. Even with only one eye, he is sharp.

But the blond had said next to nothing regarding the matter, simply patting Felix's shoulder and telling him he'd understand soon. Felix doesn't want to understand _soon_. Felix wants to understand _now_.

But soon comes faster than Felix expects it to.

They're in Felix's study as Sylvain babbles on about the usual things. Ingrid had apparently cut her hair again, the ginger-haired man reports. He'd also had the pleasure of hanging out with Ashe and Dedue on his last visit to the palace. Most of it goes in one ear and out of the other.

Until Sylvain mentions marriage.

Felix's head snaps up to meet his eyes so fast, his neck aches.

_It's about time_ , Sylvain says nonchalantly and if Felix didn't know him any better, he'd actually believe Sylvain was looking forward to reviewing marriage prospects. But Felix _did_ know him better. He sees the rigidness in Sylvain's shoulders and the exasperation in his eyes, hears the sad acceptance in his voice.

More so, Felix is entirely aware of the ache suddenly present in his chest.

Why did the idea of Sylvain getting married bother him so much?

_Because it wouldn't be to you_ , his mind supplies helpfully and Felix responds with an automatic _duh._ It's so obviou-

Oh.

_Oh_.

Oh, _fuck_.

Sylvain stops talking when Felix buries his face in his hands and releases the most long-suffering sigh he's ever sighed before.

After the war, Felix has barely anything to do. Maybe that's why he falls in love.

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be only 2k words but as you can see that isnt what happened,,, kinda went off the rails with the dimivain,, what can i say? i like it when the orange man suffers <3 kudos and comments appreciated! thanks for reading!!
> 
> feel free to hit me up on [my twitter!](https://twitter.com/trixstarsss)


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